


A Curious Thing

by days4daisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e10 Abandon All Hope..., How Do I Tag This, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Castiel/Meg Masters, Is This Incest, M/M, Non-Con Elements...But Celestial I Guess?, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:44:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer is drawn to interesting things. Temporary things. Castiel is certainly both.</p>
<p>--<br/>Takes place during 5x10: Abandon All Hope...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Curious Thing

"Castiel..." Lucifer pauses to observe this curious creature. His fear and hate smolder behind the holy fire that separates them. "I don't understand why you're fighting me. Of all the angels."

"You really have to ask?" For a lower class, this one has an intriguing amount of brass. Has he always been this way, Lucifer wonders? Off the rack with a chip, perhaps?

Or maybe this spunk is a freshly learned skilled, picked up over too many nights cast out from Heaven.

Either way, the Morning Star is interested enough to carry on. "I rebelled, I was cast out. You rebelled, you were cast out." To Lucifer, the logic is irrefutable. "All of Heaven wants to see me dead. And if they succeed, guess what? You're their new Public Enemy #1. We're on the same side, like it or not, so why not just serve your own best interests? Which, in this case, just happen to be mine."

His young brother does not answer right away, but his hesitation has nothing to do with temptation. No, Castiel has tied himself to humanity, for better or worse. Or, more specifically, he has tied himself to the Winchesters.

"I'll die first," Castiel says.

Lucifer observes him closely. Fear radiates from Castiel's vessel, but he does not waver in his resolve. Were Lucifer to tempt him again, he would not break.

"I suppose you will," Lucifer replies.

Why will he not break, this is the important question. Many of their brothers would also stand tall against Lucifer's power. But they would do so out of a sense of righteousness, loyal to Father's plan.

Oh, God's plan... 

Even now, Lucifer loves his Father. He craves one moment of His time, just one second to ask why. _Why_ was it wrong for Lucifer to love God too much? He has forgiven countless others, offered endless patience and second chances. Why was Lucifer's sin the unforgivable one?

And why force Michael to turn against him? Michael, who Lucifer favored best among his brothers.

This creature, this Castiel, does not feel righteous like the others. His only pride remains in his protection of the Winchesters. Why will he not break?

Lucifer has not lied. If Heaven succeeds and Michael ends him, Castiel will be the next traitor hunted. Castiel, poor brother, is not Lucifer, Michael, Raphael, or Gabriel. He will die as soon as Heaven deems it necessary. It will take only seconds.

"You intrigue me, brother," Lucifer says. Castiel has turned away, staring at the flames. "You fear me, but you do not shy away from your own demise. You know you will die for what you've done." He tilts his head and peers closer. "...You will die _again_ , I should say. You've already died once for your treason. Haven't you, Castiel?" 

This strikes a nerve for his younger brother. Castiel's head snaps towards him, eyes large and searching. Lucifer notes this reaction with interest. There are unanswered questions about his return from the dead, it seems.

"Would you like to ask me something?" Lucifer asks.

Castiel's conflict is palpable. His eyes shift first left, then right. His pulse flutters deliciously on the side of his neck.

"No," Castiel replies. But there is doubt in this decision. An opportunity for truth was presented, but Castiel’s desperate grasp on morality will not allow him the closure he seeks. What a fascinating creature. 

"You have died for your betrayal of Heaven. And you will die again. It is a fate you have accepted."

"Yes," Castiel says. He averts his eyes. A safe choice. 

Lucifer circles the fire. "It is a fate you welcome. Isn't it?" Again, he's hit a nerve. Castiel's wary gaze meets his again.

Lucifer's mouth twitches. "Yes. You've made your choice. You fell for free will. For the Winchesters."

"Leave them be," Castiel says, but his voice carries no weight. He knows he is powerless here.

"Castiel," Lucifer chides. "It is not my destiny to leave them be. Or Michael's. And it is not their destiny to abandon the roles our Father designed for them. Will you rob them of their purpose, brother? Like they robbed you of yours?"

Castiel opens his mouth and closes it again. The poor thing is so enraged he can't even speak.

"Who is your anger meant for, Castiel?" Lucifer asks quietly. "Me? Or our Father?"

Oh, the delightful pain this causes. Castiel's expression falls into misery. Sweet, broken thing.

Lucifer, in some ways, sympathizes with this beast. He, too, has felt angry and betrayed. He has stood alone in his cause and convictions. But, unlike his brother, Lucifer has never denied his destiny. It is his Father's will for him to fight Michael. So, they will fight. And one of them will die.

Castiel no longer believes in destiny. What purpose is there for an angel if God's plan no longer exists?

Only one - death. And not just any death. A death that signifies the nobility of one's cause. A death for free will; for the righteous man who ruined him.

"You intend to die for Dean Winchester," Lucifer says. Castiel does not answer him. He does not need to. "Loyalty," Lucifer muses, "to a vessel not your own. What a strange, diseased thing you are-"

"I don't need to explain myself to you." Castiel turns on him suddenly, eyes wild with a desperate hate. "You are a traitor and a coward. It's my life, my choices, and I will do with them what I must."

A traitor and a coward? Were Lucifer not so intrigued, he would cut losses and destroy his captive right now.

But the second part of Castiel's outburst entices the Fallen One. His life and his choices... Fascinating.

Dean is not Castiel's vessel. The elder Winchester should be just another human in the eyes of the angel. Yes, a special one - raised from Hell for the sake of the prophecy. But he is a purpose, a means to an end. Dean Winchester is not a cause. He is not worthy of sacrifice.

But, he has convinced Castiel that he _is_ worthy. This makes Dean Winchester more powerful than Lucifer gave him credit for.

His thoughts are cut short by the return of the demon. Meg, she calls herself.

"I've got the Winchesters pinned down, for now at least," she says. At the name 'Winchester,' Castiel's head rises. "What should I do with them?"

Lucifer does not look at her. His interest lies with his brother’s very...human...concern.

Absently, he murmurs, "Leave them alone."

"I'm sorry, but are you sure?" A demon, questioning him? How peculiar and unwelcome. "Shouldn't we-"

"Trust me, child." Lucifer is tempted to deal with her lack of faith cruelly. But this Meg has been useful, more so than the average demon. He cups her face in his hands and runs his thumbs across her cheeks. "Everything happens for a reason." 

The demon smiles at him, full of love and worship. Pacified, for now.

"Well, Castiel." Lucifer returns his attention to his brother. "We have some time. Time enough to change your mind?"

Castiel says nothing, which is no surprise. He will not change his mind. And he will die for Dean Winchester, as pointless as it seems.

"My child. Meg," Lucifer murmurs, his eyes never straying from Castiel. "Tell me, what is your opinion of Dean Winchester?"

Meg snorts at the name. "His mouth is smarter than his brain," she mutters. Her gaze ticks from the Fallen One to the trapped angel.

The sight of a once powerful celestial reduced to a caged animal is enough to ease her brief anger. "His meat is pretty," she purrs, more confident. "But under those puppy eyes, he's a monster."

"Stop." Lucifer's intrigued gaze takes in the fists now clenched at Castiel's sides.

Meg laughs and marches up to the flame. "Oh, come on. You saw what he was down there. Darker than the darkest demon. The things he did to those souls-"

"No blame falls on him," Castiel says. His voice is dangerously low. "He was, and is, a righteous man."

"And you know all about righteous." Meg walks around him, expression glowing with pride. "Kicked out of Heaven for your sweet-ass boyfriend. Graceful, Clarence-"

"Enough." Lucifer's voice is gentle but firm. The last thing he'll tolerate is a demon demeaning Heaven, no matter his own grudges.

Besides, he has little time before he must depart. The minutes are better spent focused on this odd brother of his.

"Curious," Lucifer observes, "for an angel to be so tethered to a human." Castiel looks at him but says nothing.

"You care for him." Lucifer taps pensive fingers against his mouth. Castiel frowns. "Is it because you raised him from the Pit, I wonder? Or because of the things he's taught you." Castiel's frown deepens.

Lucifer pushes himself from the wall and approaches. Meg, obedient, steps behind him without needing to be told.

"How much has he taught you, brother?" the Fallen One presses. Castiel does not respond.

Faced with his silence, Lucifer lifts a casual hand. Nervously, his brother watches. Does he think Lucifer means to kill him? 

Poor, doomed thing. That time will come. 

Lucifer could end him now with a snap of his fingers. But, instead, he gently combs his hand through the air between them. It is a sweet, tender motion. The conductor of a silent orchestra.

Castiel gasps and staggers like a drunkard. His eyes widen with alarm and strain pleadingly towards his brother.

Lucifer gives him the smile of an older sibling who knows what lovely torture he is capable of. One who does not care whether it is wanted or not.

Softly, he raises his hand in the same combing motion, his fingertips teasing through the air. Castiel makes a quiet, desperate sound. Again, he weaves on his feet, his eyes rolling back and his lips parting. His body is taut with bliss, the tendons of his neck pulled so tight that Lucifer wonders how the lovely ridges would feel between his vessel's teeth.

Humankind as a whole is murderous and diseased, but their flesh has its occasional perks...

"You see, child," Lucifer murmurs. He speaks kindly to the demon, but he has no interest in looking at her. His eyes remained fixed on his brother, so beautifully conflicted. His body is flushed and shivering with arousal, but his mind and heart are in agony.

"Your opinions of my race are justified in places. But there is one lie your kind believes. My brothers are quite capable of feeling, as you can see. Emotional and physical, if they allow it." Lucifer's smile is fond and cruel. "My brother, in his fall, has opened the door to pleasures of the flesh."

His fingers sweep back down, weaving through the air between them. This time, however, he speaks as well. The movements of his mouth are inaudible, nothing for the demon's ears.

But his brother hears everything. Castiel groans and twists his head away. He brings his hands to his ears, instinctively trying to block the voice of the Fallen One. What a curious thing, reacting like a human to unwanted sounds. Closing his ears will not silence Lucifer. His voice speaks directly to Castiel's mind as his fingers stroke his body, outside and in. His hand has become one thousand touches, licking every inch of his lovely vessel.

And, not just the vessel. This is where the Winchester boy is limited. He can only touch the angel's skin. Lucifer can reach inside to his grace. Kiss it, lick it, caress it with doting hands.

He could make his touch painful and bleed Castiel for his betrayal. But no, this is sweeter. It is a more fitting torture.

"Stop," Castiel whispers. His body begins to cave on itself.

Oh, Lucifer has no intention of stopping. He adds his other hand, sweeping both lovingly above the flames. Castiel moans weakly. He tries to turn his face, but it is not enough. Lucifer sees his eyes, glazed with an enticing twist of lust and shame.

Lucifer whispers again to his mind, words gentle and sincere. That he is broken but still beautiful. His sad, sweet brother. If these days were different, if destiny could be changed, maybe Lucifer would be invited to see what the elder Winchester has ignited within him. Won't Castiel let him take a peek?

Castiel fights him valiantly, but he is too weak to win. Lucifer's mind drinks in the visions brought on by his hands. He sees Dean Winchester smiling, his eyes soft with understanding. Simple moments when Castiel looked at the elder Winchester and something stirred beneath the cold bindings of his station.

But there are only looks - treasured, intimate eye contact. Lucifer finds no physical love, no consummation of their bond. Just devotion, beautiful and trusting.

A waste of the flesh and bone Castiel fell for.

"You tragic thing," Lucifer says. "What a sad life you've led."

"Stop," Castiel hisses, begging this time. It is taking all of his willpower just to stay upright. Even from this angle, Lucifer can see the heaviness tenting in his slacks. Need shivers through the arms he's wrapped uselessly around himself.

Then, Lucifer discovers something amazing. It is a memory, locked in the deepest corner of Castiel's mind.

The vision is from centuries ago, before the strife began. Back when there existed God and angels, and all lived in peace. He sees himself and his brothers, what happy times. They are in a procession to the throne of their Father.

Michael leads the way. Stoic, business-first Michael. His seriousness is held in check by Gabriel, the joker. He is laughing and saying something loudly, as has always been his way.

Raphael eyes the masses around them. The way has been parted, a parade of angels lining their path to the throne. None of these beings have seen the Father, and they likely never will. Raphael has always held himself above them. To him, they are weak, lesser beings.

He is not wrong. But Lucifer finds them intriguing in their own way. These servants are so enamored with their Father that they are content to spend their days in his service and glory. All of this they do based on faith, for a God they have never seen. 

These angels of the lower ranks know their place. They bow their heads and whisper praise as the archangels pass, subservient to the four worthy to stand in their Father's presence.

All but one, a stray, whose gaze locks with Lucifer's.

Lucifer watches himself stop in this memory. Eye contact with the lower ranks is foreign to him. Were he in a foul mood, he could punish his brother for it.

But Lucifer is not angry. He is curious, even when the young one realizes his error and shrinks away.

"Get out!" Castiel screams.

But Lucifer will not let go of the memory. He watches himself leave the line of his brothers and stroll casually to the edge of the lane. Lucifer stops in front of the stray angel, who has curled into himself as a show of submission.

"Forgive me, brother," he says. "The others speak of how strong you are. How beautiful. I... I wanted to see."

Lucifer is endeared to him. He reaches out and touches the light that is this celestial being. In doing so, intent becomes a physical manifestation. His extended presence becomes fingers, and they curl around a chin.

Lucifer lifts his head. The blue of his brother's eyes matches the skies of Heaven. What a strange but lovely beast.

"What is your name?" Lucifer asks.

"Castiel, brother," he responds.

Lucifer smiles. "Castiel," he echoes. Gently, he traces his thumb across the lips of the lower angel. "Castiel, it is you who are beautiful. Remember this."

Castiel bows his head, but Lucifer sees the pleased warmth fill his cheeks.

Lucifer desires to learn more about this creature who is not afraid to meet the gaze of an archangel. But a hand falls on his shoulder and tears him back. Yes, of course, it is Raphael, eyeing him with disgust.

"There's no shame in fun every now and then, brother," Lucifer says. He reaches to pat Raphael's cheek, only getting one touch in before he is shoved away.

The vision vanishes. Castiel's hands are tight over his ears, and his expression is gaping with terror. It contrasts to the obvious want trembling through his vessel.

"I remember you now, my Castiel," Lucifer whispers.

He lifts his head, drawn to the sounds of preparation outside.

It is time.

He returns a look to this brother. "Wait for me. This will be over soon."

Stepping back from the flames, the Fallen One remembers the demon Meg. It is beyond her, this intangible bond between angels. But the lust in her eyes is palpable, pupils blown out and mouth wet from repeated swipes of her tongue.

"Watch him," Lucifer says.

By the way her hungry eyes turn to the trapped Castiel, watching him will be no problem. He has woken something interesting in this demon-girl, a new found appreciation for the intricacies of his race. Specifically, for his beautiful, damaged brother.

Now, is Castiel perceptive enough to realize that his escape has been granted? Lucifer glances at the pipes above their heads. 

His gaze flicks back to his prisoner. Admirably, Castiel is on his feet despite Lucifer's physical and emotional play. He is still breathing heavily, but the weakness and shame have left his eyes, replaced by a dark, challenging calm.

Castiel will escape, Lucifer is sure of this now. But, will they cross paths again before the end?

It does not matter, really. His disgraced brother is destined to die. But Lucifer is drawn to interesting things. Temporary things. Castiel, his Castiel, is certainly both.

With a nod of farewell, the Devil departs.

*The End*


End file.
